Chronicle IV of the Pleiade's Daughters

All the valley is hidden by the smoke spreading out from different points where sylvan villages are burning. A morbid silence is the burden of the wing of death hovering in the shape of a menacing gray cloud trapped in between the stones wall mountains.

Once, this valley was a peaceful retreat for the monks, guardians of the Flame of Life. Here was a sure and secluded corner for all pilgrims from the four winds of this northern land. But the Flame of Life has been stolen by invaders.

The night is crawling in through the eastern rocky white teeth crowned by eternal snow. In the center of the forested valley, a small area has been ignored by the dark servants. This area, known as "The Prime Willow Tree". This area is invisible to the evil eye but a beacon of Light to the pure heart. The prime wise tree is the mother of this evolving forest. The Divine Consciousness of the Old Wise Mother Tree is in total communion with her pure children: Sacha the Unicorn, Mirhillia the Fairy, Phoenatus the Knight Guardian (actually a shape shifter also called by his wild friends the Inky Bear).

With their small army of pure hearts and souls, they wait for the call of faith. Laying their back on the enormous trunk, they all harmonise their pulse of life with the one of the Sacred Willow, their Mother Tree, their source of power that will be unleashed in a moment. Like a ring of protection, a large body of water surrounds the willow. Underneath the surface, Osirian the Nymph is busy with all water spirits. They spread their power among the underground life throughout a huge sponge of interconnected tunnels and worm holes, like the inside of a bone. The empathic link in between Mother Tree's roots and Osirian is the main advantage of all these defenders of life. In the twinkling of an eye, an armada of water spirits is created.

The tribe chief of the creatures from the shadows is overexcited by the results of the attack. The victory has been easy, without resistance. He is looking at his warriors showing already a frenetic fever of vanquishers. Time is at hand to celebrate. It is smelling good. All these villages are burning but one thing is missing: The pleasure to see fear in the eyes of the vanquished, since there was nobody to embrace the fury of the shadow warriors. And the chief thinks:"Where are the famous Dryads who would be shared with luxuriance and pleasure in between the legs of my soldiers? Where are these Faeries who could amuse our children with their cut off wings? Where is the queen ambassadress, the nice blond Nymph Osirian saved for my own privacy, chained to my couch receiving my seeds of victory?"

A deep tremble distracts the military chief and he turns back towards the camp, where a thick wall of mist crawls in between the trunks and the giant ferns. Suddenly, screams are heard from the gray fog, with no sound of irons or shields smashing on each other. All these veiled men at arm fall in a last terror scream, defeated by death without honor, alone in the gray realm of lost souls.

The chief lifts high his long sword in front of his forehead with a grin at his face to show his fearless glance, trying to pierce the thickness of mystery surrounding him. The quiet calm becomes unbearable. Pearling down on his forehead and temples, a dew of fear slides down on his dirty lizard skin in steady flow with the rhythm of his heart beat overwhelming all his senses in a storm of fearful squeezing grasp at his throat. He feels the last grain of sand passing behind his dry tongue. His hour glass is emptying and he knows that his devious horned god has abandon him here, to die alone in a mist of silence, with no slave to fear his victory.

The swift attack emerges from underneath and the roots becomes traps holding his ankles. With a blank momentum, the sword hit the air frenetically in a swirl of mist. With a telluric power the Sacred Forest swallows him as quick as a lizard tyrant of the wild. Loosing the grip on his sword, his claws hit deep the green carpet of the sylvan temple. Catching two hands full of useless humus, he feels the cold water reaching at him under the forest floor. Taking a last breath, he knows that water will submerge him soon and WHAM! In the aquatic land he dives in, opening his eyes on the ultimate reward of his conquest: Osirian herself is standing in the weightlessness of the greenly waters with her sensual hairs floating like a dancing murena and welcoming the brave reptilian warrior. A last smile drawn on attracting lips disappears in a cloud of red blood bersting around. The soldier sees well the impact of the lethal ray of Light radiating from the Osirian's chest. Piercing like a lance, the rays open the flesh of his body and he feels well the last bliss of the Light Carrier. Osirian lays a last glance to her enemy mixed with hope and faith. Slowly the reptilian's vision becomes gray and the lightness of his soul is felt again, on this cross over path where your destiny has an appointment with your immortal soul.

An empathic wave comes from the inner forest.

The Prime Willow Tree trembles when a fresh wind caresses her leaves in a sign of a new era. All present souls reunited at the base of her trunk are looking at each other with a real feeling of relief. The enemy has been dealt with. All these thousand of invaders have been embraced by Mother-Earth. The unification of the evil souls with Nature’s Spirits has been successful. The Pilgrims of the Light may come back from the portals of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

Sacha, the Unicorn, approaches Phoenatus the knight. They both lay their flank on the skin of their Mother-Tree and hear back the new rhythm of life surging from the heart of their Source. Unleashed from this new fusion of souls from the shadows, Faeries and Wood Elves are back again in their sylvan domain. Dancing lights announce a lot of changes in the air. Regenerated from an unexpected source, the valley will open her green branches towards the sky. From the summit of the rocky mountains some shape shifters are already on their flight,, gliding on the warm stream of air. These are the prime Druids in a mission of total blessing of the Sacred Forest. The marriage of the evil souls with Nature Spirits has been successful.

Now is a time for celebration in a  recognition of the powers at stake. The Druids shape shifters may repopulate the green realm of the valley. Now the males may lay their seeds in their Sacred Wombs, guided by the new Light of Nature Spirits. A season of peaceful growing may blossom in a deep wave of echoing memories from eons of creation, transformation, alteration, innovation… where nothing is lost and everything is created. The night sky may offer his mantle to the milky way. The bright stars may shine like diamonds. The lady Moon may circle on her path through the night, in a complete blessing, harvesting any signature of any resilient energies left behind. The grid of power may root itself in the core of each Singing Cristal left as seeds, in Mother Cybellia’s Sacred Womb, eons ago.

THE END

Author’s notes :

The story-teller is comfortably sit on the main branch, at the core of the foliage, in the arms of his Mother-Tree. He rolls back his parchment and touches his chest with the palm of his hand and with the wind he disappears since he is as light as any dream. In few moments, this incident of the attack of the shadows is just an other  event of the past where he will come back in full consciousness to tell his tale to the inner children of the future.

Good-bye, loyal reader.

Chronicle III of the Pleiade’s Daughters

Swirls of fog dance beside the canoes approaching the land. Gray silhouettes of mountains are the landmark for Cailla, who is at one moment from a revelation. Since the begining of his walk on the Sacred Land of the Pleiade’s Daughters, the ambiance is mystic and touched with magic. It is so early in the morning that the Sun do only spray a golden crown behind the huge spine of the rocky wall. A thick mist hide the vast wilderness and the pride of the Yew-trees Forest circling the river. Sometime canoes seem to fly through a cloud of gray shapes distorted by the dramatic sound of wild beasts on the land. The air carries different aromas from the low lands. Often, once in shallow waters, enormous fangs and skeletal arms menace the travelers with their monstrous forms seeming to go closer over the tiny humans. Half hidden under the misty surface, they are every where on the shore and half submerged. All these trunks and branches intertwined together like a natural wall to forbid the access to the land. Laying there since many moons, all these dead Yew-trees are really acting like guardians of the Sacred Womb.
Canoes are slowly sliding on the calm surface, in silence. Suddenly, Cailla lifts his left arm as a signal to stop, showing his fist. He is very focused with his eyes glaring at the water…He opens his hand with the five digits extended, meaning WE HAVE FIVE VISITORS. At the same moment all seven canoes stop abruptly. More likely, an hidden force, underneath the mirror of the water, hold them still. Cailla’s companions know well how to behave on this encounter at hand. The respect and a peacefull attitude is a must, because the veil in between the young humanity and the invisible world is wide open. A simple act of violence or a lack of consciousness might be fatal, dealing with the Guardian Spirits of Nature in this Sacred place.
Just one small swirl on the surface, in front of the Cailla’s canoe is enough to tell him who is coming out. He spreads at once his two arms in a welcome gesture. And a beauty for mortal eyes emerges from the dark water. With grace and weightlessness a female creature levitates over the river and lays her hands in Cailla’s ones. A magic moment occure where two worlds are glancing at each other…with both a smile of joy to exchange.
« Diaphanous Osirian! » Says the Traveler.
« Consciousness Strider Cailla! Your call is welcomed at the Sacred Womb. »
As usual…with an extreme precision both consciousnesses connect like two magnets and a wonderfull union in a timeless mood is occuring : Since the Pleidiade’s queen, Maïa, departed, the six other feys are still bounded to the young Earth keeping an eye on her children. Otherwise the chaos would be a daily nightmare. Now is the time for Cailla to become the Light Traveler. He will be gifted, lifes after lifes, to share the Knowledge of the Stone of Light from the Sacred Womb.
While Osirian the Nymph and Cailla are in a rare embrace, a new sound buzzes around the tree-skin boats. From nowhere appear four tiny winged creatures, as beautifull as some maidens originating from a Divine Dream. Their milky skin is amazingly glowing in the mist. One of them glides slowly over the Cailla’s shoulder and whispers in his ear :
« Welcome home, brother Cailla. I am Mirhilia, your fairy sister. Let’s proceed towards the Sacred Womb, waiting for your seed of Sight. »
As a real spontaneous response all three of them, Osirian, Mirhilia and Cailla bow low to each other, to meet again, in this life.
One fairy is left behind as a watch on the boats placed up side down on the shore, well hidden amongs the branches-fence. Doing so, the Giants Marauders inhabiting this region would pass by without noticing the fresh human meat they miss. The group of 21 humans is heading in the core of the land, stretching in a long line ending up with two fairies who are erazing all traces with their usefull illusive spells. Up front, Cailla is thrilled in a conversation with the Nymph and the Fairy, zigzaging in a thick forest of giant ferns and trees with trunks as large as a gathering hut. Towering the walkers-pilgrims, the green and huge arms hide them from the dangerous sky where wild flying lizards are still roaming in the Cloud Land.
The journey is hard and treacherous. But Cailla is so off and light hearted with his two companions on his side again…after all these lifes together…memories pop on from all three as one genesis of the humanity. The line of adventurers is now approaching the exact point of convergence of the two chains of rocky mountains in a narrow angle. From here we see already the Great Cleansing Fall. Its high source, on the top of a dense forested summit, is too high to be seen, except when riding a Dragon over it. But from the ground, the majesty of this fall caressing the smooth and shiny flank of the rocky body is astonishing and quite inviting to contemplation, divine respect and attraction.
On the top of an hill, Cailla stops and stands still like a standing stone in front of this marvel! The three silhouettes, on the top of their tiny hill, contrast at the long, thin and smoothly falling down white ruban of water becoming a mist at the bottom where a lake reflect the white living beauty. With wet eyes, Cailla look at Osirian and Mirhilia and says, looking back at the scenery :
« It has been a long time ago! »
« Yes, dear! »…Both magical beings respond in echo.
Cailla continues while his twenty companions gather arround, with their eyes wide open at the splendour.
« We were all here, remember! We were at the beginning, we were the firsts to walk from behind the Cleansing Fall… We were the new born souls from the Sacred Womb. »
Osirian tosses her head with grace and a wave of long hairs swirl in the wind and says : « Here I must go first into the lake. I must be sure that you all cross over safely. Take a little rest up here and join me on the shore later. » While Osirian disappears through the thick curtain of ferns towards the lake, Cailla spend a precious time with his loyal followers gathered arround him and some of them are in total contemplation before the tremendous waterfall.
Walking gracefully but with all senses vigilant, Osirian shows a stern countenance. « Something is watching us! » Says Mirhilia poping visible over the Osirian’s shoulder.
« I do feel it since a while, indeed…and it is looking after me… I do know because of the evil signature it is leaving on my side…since the group left the canoes. » The Nymph Osirian adds with confidence.
« I did too…And soon will be the clash…I have a plan. This evil beast will eat the dust…euh…I must say the wave! » Mirhilia adds in a quick move, taking off in the air. They look at each other and exchange a wink. In the same momentum, Mirhilia pop off and Osirian start to run as fast as she can towards the lake.
Observing from behind and well cloaked by a thin veil of fear and doupt…the creature waits…while Osirian is seen with her nasty fairy : « And soon, both will be crushed under my feet… I can’t wait to have my revenge on these deceiving creatures. » The vision of the nemesis is clear and sharp, cold and neat, almost passionate. In a mental blur, the creature can’t wait anymore, and she sees the winged vermin poping off. She sprints out of the veil and run after her delightful prey…savouring already the warmness and tenderness of the juicy flesh nailed by her teeth. She is catching up easily on the weak pelagic creature so overtaken. The evil glance shows a Nymph in despair. But suddenly, in spite of the secure lake at hand, Osirian stop running and turns back slowly towards the vicious entity, showing a mucking grin on her face…
The hellish life form ends up the pursuit… « Something smells wrong! » She doesn’t know yet, but it is her last thought!... Taking a last breath… all the environment is shifting. From the familiar forest, a huge wall of water fall down on her. The last vision she get is that calm smile on Osirian’s face distorted by a swirl of bubbles and water violently smashing at her like an hammer of death. Osirian, in total freedom in her element, gracefully swims towards the reptilian corpse suspended lifeless, like a forgotten doll. Reaching at her tail, she brings the body in shallow water area.Osirian walks out of the lake, draging the creature like a bag. Not far, Mirhilia is comfortably sit on a rock, playing with her hairs, showing a total confidence seeing the hunter laying lifeless on the ground. Mirhilia brake the silence : « Oh! She was a Reptilian… nice catch, Osirian! »
The Nymph lay her fists on her hips and look at her Fairy friend : « Well, thank you, dear! But without your illusion spell, I would have been in big trouble… or at least with some wounds and bites all over me…and more likely raped too! Because I knew her, she had a kind of nasty habit to chase after us, Nature Spirits. »
« Did you know her since a while? » Mirhilia is asking, flying back towards Osirian and hovering in front of her.
« Yes, her name was Hellishia and also my first political assignment, eons ago. We were supposed to work together in the making of a new era of peace…Hmmm! I still remember her way to look at me even by these first ages. She was so guided by her own satisfaction. Imagine, Mirhilia, she was an androgyne… and was badly attracted to me… »
« Ah ah ah ah! » Mirhilia can’t help but to laugh aloud. « How come it didn’t work in between you two? I don’t understand…You had so much to share! » Glancing back at Mirhilia, Osirian shows a smile : « Yeah! You must know that Reptilians eat their partner after the act! I had better plans in my life then digested in a belly! »
« Hmmm! You have a point, dear! » Says her winged friend. « Do we dispose of her? » Mirhilia adds as she looks back at the corpse.
Up on the hill, Cailla is packing up after a short rest and a blue light flash attracts his attention, farther down on the shore. « Well! The path is clear. Let’s go, sisters and brothers, time to join in with Osirian and Mirhilia! »
It is an historic moment; The group of humans gathering downwards the gigantic Cleansing Waterfall. The pilgrims are amazed with all their senses. A lot of white birds are circling in the mist and along the ruban of milky water. The wind is fresh and aromatic carrying swirls of droplets so warm, contrasting with the fresher air. The group is still under cover in the long shadows of the Yew-trees. Roots and rocks are melted together along the shore. It is where Cailla find Osirian and Mirhilia; Both very focused at the most urgent and important task at hand. Hovering and gliding arround Osirian’s head, Mirhilia creates a real master piece of art with the hairs of the Nymph. It is difficult to say if magic or centuries of expertise are involved in this. Hmmm!...three qualificatives : Delicate, Majestic and Astonishing. Spirits of Nature are well known to be the instigators dedicated to the beauty radiating from a female. Osirian and Mirhilia are so focused on their art work that they don’t notice the Cailla’s presence.
« Well…Hum! So…You did encounter some resistance as I have seen the famous Fairy’s blue flash! » ( Renatus’s notes : ref. to Chronicle III of the Children of the Earth )
Mirhilia, still buzzing like a bee, interlaces a tress arround a graceful sculpture catching sometime golden rays of the morning sun piercing through the green ceiling of the huge branches of Yew-trees overhanging the group. « Dear Cailla, says Mirhilia, we can’t afford to attract a score of Giant Marauders with a reptilian corpse. » Cailla reacts with a frown. Osirian adds with a grin, looking at Cailla : « And you don’t wish to see this creature… Hellishia was my nemesis… and today is a blessed day, since she is no more at my back, once and for all! » With a last fairy artistic touch, Mirhilia changes the subject : « Well!… I will soon open the portal through the Ether Land, to let us all walk across the Cleansing Waterfall. »
While the pilgrims are changing their travel cloths for the ritual white robes, Mirhilia and her two other winged companions, start chanting their Ether Land’s spell to open the tunnel through the matter, called by the Ancients « The Sacred Bridge of Star Dust » (ref. : Chronicle I of the Pleiade’s Daughters ).
Not far enough behind the group, from the forest, a great turmoil is heard… Osirian and Cailla look at each other with concern. Osirian cuts the glance : « GIANTS ARE ON US!... They figured out where we are…clenching her teeth, she adds… Their shaman did torture some of us again !» Osirian look towards the wall of Yew-trees but at the same time, behind her, a phenomena shows some visual alterations in the middle of the air over the surface of the lake. Cailla looks back and forth at the portal and Osirian. He feels well the enormous anger from the Nymph’s heart and forsees what is in the making. Osirian’s heart is broken because of all these sacrificed sisters in the crual hands of the giant shaman.
« Come on, dear… Let it go… The portal is on…You can’t miss the Cross Over for a score of giants! » Cailla reaches at her arm gently. But Osirian reacts violently and turns back her glance towards Cailla : « No! I take a stand! These nut brains will taste of my essence. I do it for my sisters, gone by the door of pain. »… Already with eyes watered with tears, she turns back towards the green wall, frees her arm from Cailla’s grip and extends the two of them towards the Marauders approaching few steps behind the wall of trees.
Cailla is astonished by the Osirian’s courage and spits out : « So…I’ll take a stand too, beside my friend, for all lifes to come and together…no matter what! » In a critical moment, the closest branches begin to tremble with the earthquake like steps approaching behind… The rythm of death presses hard on Cailla’s heart… The time freezes and squeezes all life left… Faith is shaken… Bravery is sharp as a sacrificial knife… Blood hits hard on temples… The throat dries like sand under the sun… The stench of them attacks the nostrils.
But a shift in the air winds through the foliage. A salted pelagic draft replaces the musky one. Still hidden by the thick green wall the massive creatures close in with guttural noises half muted by a sound of waves of water crashing towards Osirian and Cailla. The trees resist to the strong tsunami breaking. Acting like a huge screen, theYew-trees let pass a rain of salted water falling down on the group as a rainbow of colours in the sun light. Cailla is still in a ready pose to cast his spell but figures out what did just happen and step back in a relieved attitude. He looks at Osirian : « Well, well, well!... Beware, living souls, the powerful Nymph Osirian strikes back, again!... I am so happy to be on your side, dear! To kiss goodby to my flesh and life at the sight of myself becoming sea water is not at all exciting! » Osirian smiles with still determination sparkling in her eyes, still looking at the deep wall of wet trees : « All my Sister Spirits have been honoured… their sacrificed lifes inspired and gave me the extra argument to make these huge vermins perish without a trace. After all, our passage must be a secret… untill that future humanity passes back through again! »
At these words, a warm wind blows in from the lake. An iris is opening in the air, just over the surface. Like a huge eye looking at the group, in the middle of it the three fairies circle hand to hand, arms extended. They look like three dragonflys in union, like a triskel, like the past/present/future at the Gates of Ether Land. These winged graces are marvelous singing sweet notes rocking all the souls attending. Osirian joins in at the contemplation with a charismatic voice : « May we all proceed to the cleansing of our soul and heart. Let our chosen pilgrims walk through the awareness of their new destiny. »
In a tunnel through all matter, the future Consciousness Travelers with eyes and mouth wide open, look at what is happening over their head, in a sky not so friendly. Huge flying lizards circle close to the summit of the Cleansing Waterfall. Cailla reassure them with a calm voice : « You are walking now in the Ether Land. You are all very secure and invisible from the outside world. These degenerated dragons can’t see you. Stay in the present and all together we will walk across the Cleansing Waterfall. » At the very moment when the first pilgrim closes in the point where the waterfall becomes a white and silver mist area, a translucent wall of seven lights unfolds like a rainbow with its 7 colours piercing throughout each body, each shell, each soul’s carrier. An expression of delightful joy radiates from each companion once they’ve been gloriously touched by the Seven Pleiade’s Daughters’s energies. Cailla, Osirian and Mirhillia look at each other with pride and great complicity… builted up lifes after lifes, like swallows building up their nest.
All of them surround Cailla at the entrance hidden behind the Waterfall. On their back, the thick curtain plays as a silver gate closing the Sacred Womb from the outside. Cailla climbs on a rock to be well seen and with an echoing voice : « Here we are at the source of all rebirth… All of us will born in a new consciousness! » At these words a dim light pulses on, coming from the center of the gigantic cave. The vault is like a real temple with unhuman proportions. Three enormous natural pillars are covered with some cristals but the most intriguing and attracting aspect is the majestic jewel, created millions year ago by the union of Cibellia and Galaxos (Chronicle I of the Pleiade’s Daughters). Galaxos’s love seeds cristalised here. With time passing by, the cristal became the storage, the memories of the creation of the Earth and her children. This central huge cristal is an intense gluster of bright shards linked together by their memories, light and loves… the very essence of their creation. In a closer look, we see and feel all the pulsion of the heart of the Earth… the closer we are to this standing stone of blessed Light, the closer our heart beat is harmonised with the rythm… rythm… rythm… like one heart beat… together… synchronised like waves on the shore. The Oneness is felt, the joy is overwhelming, the Divine is One in all his shards. The bright pulse of Light is wonderfull. All the beauty and purety of the cristal is revealed.
Cailla’s hand approaches the singing stone… and one after one, other hands come closer and touch the prime stone of the Sacred Womb. All the pilgrims do their closing beside the standing stone. All of them, Osirian, Mirhilia, the two other fairies are beating, touching, connecting at the Sacred Light Stone. Sudenly, memories of the Earth herself fusion with Cailla’s one; the first children walking on Earth migrating from the very center of Mother- Earth, the wise Cristal Giants, the Chromatic Dragons, the Key guardians Whales of the Abys, the Dolphins Healers and their Mermeids, the Pachiderms called the Love- Keepers, the seven wise Feys from the northern sky called later the Pleiade’s Daughters and all their Nature Spirits.
Here our three friends look at each other with a Love surge bringing tears at their eyes, tears collected from an ocean of immortal embracing radiating like three beacons. It is at that very unique moment that all this pilgrimage comes to its purpose. Like an eclosion, the Light Stone’s surface fractions itself in as many shards as present souls and each piece of Light finds home in each heart…
In each glance we see the immortality sparkling from the past and the future…
In each breath, a miracle accures, life expresses herself…
In each blood flow, the river of time is charted, memorised events are spreading, circling and looping like a moebius ruban…
In each present soul, a clear path of time after time is drawn. The future of Mother-Earth passes through the new born Consciousness’s Travelers. Cailla and his twenty human companions take each other’s hand and step back in a growing circle becoming more and more extended from the very center of the Sacred Womb.
At this precised moment, Cailla feels the top of his head taken in a swirl of warm air and he opens his eyes, wondering about these images he is receiving as a new enhanced Consciousness’s Traveler. He turns his glance naturaly and calmly towards the one at his left hand side. The young disciple reflexes the same serenity of expression looking back too, at Cailla. He smiles through the Light radiating from all his body and with his usual deep voice, he says : « Oh! There you are, princess Delfine. You did hide well amongs the twenty chosen ones. You are more then a royal blood heir concealed to survive at the intrigues of the court. » A little uneased by the truthfull comments of her Consciousness’s Master, Delfine shows nevertheless a great pride and grace no more needed to be concealed and she adds : « Your true seeing honour me, Master Cailla. I must admit that I do feel releaved to let know about all these years and centuries spent in a constant vigilence, avoiding plots, assassination attempts… forced to step back furter and deeper in the wild folds of any world, I did developed a second nature to survive. I had to find out all alone the ressources possibly found in any hidden corner of each civilisation ».
As all the other pilgrims look at each other in recognition, echoing at the same flow of timeless consciousness, the circle of new reborn beings slowly harmonises an invisible pulse to the Singing Stone of the Sacred Womb. In one voice, all together, Cailla, Osirian, Mirhilla and her two winged sisters sing their Spirit’s Chant. This melody is the Prime Sacred Song, the Divine Voice of the Source transmitted to the Nature Spirits by the Queen Maïa and her six Pleiade’s Daughters, eons ago. Emerging from the very core of immortality where all form of life take root, where the first wind of passion has blown from both stellar beings Gallaxos and Cybellia, where humanity was still a Divine Dream in the process of germination.
In the echoing rythm of the chant, the huge cave radiates from its center, deeper, stronger, brighter, untill the whole cave seems alive in the heart of the mountain. So brilliant and shining is the Light that we loose track of any silhouettes. The brightness becomes the only overwhelming state to all present souls. Physical bodies murge in the brightness of the radiance.
In one thought, in one will, in one surge of Love, all the souls rap on together the gift of this very instant; THE GIFT TO GIVE LIFE BY AND FOR LIFE. Cailla’s voice echoes in the air : « All of us in one we are. All of us are and feel like one. We are the memories of civilisations, races and all life forms of the past, present and future. We are one in a timeless state. We are the cement of our Love and Light. We are facing an historic moment. By our work in the consciousness, we are able to travel in and out each reality, each illusion. Our wave elevates us towards our roots… towards our common Mother-Tree of Life ».
Almost too shining to be observed, the phenomenum takes a new turn : All the twenty souls become diaphane and levitate for a while in the middle of the immense sacred place and a danse just begins. Overing the central Singing Stone, they all allign themselves in one line, like a rubon. This silver cord made of twenty sparks evolves in the shape of an « 8 » laying where the ceiling swallows them in a communion of recognition. Here in the flesh of the rock, the new borns use this stone connexion to start off their new specific mission as Consciousness Travelers in all the realms and planes of the multiverse.
The End
Epilogue :
The fairy left beside the canoes is not surprised seeing Cailla, Osirian, Mirhilla and her two other winged sisters in a new radiating charisma. She says : « Welcome back, my dears! I see that a new generation of Consciousness Travelers has been given to the multiverse. »
Cailla and Osirian stand side by side, hand in hand, when they emerge from the thick wall of ferns. They reach their heart with their free hand and salute low their fairy guardian. Cailla adds : « Yes indeed, the multiverse did receive our present. It is still our best gift, our present! » Cailla cannot resist to smile at Osirian at the end of his sentense. A nice smile reflecting all these centuries of real distanced love is shining at the nymph’s face. The atmosphere is blessed all around Osirian and Cailla. Mirhilla and her three sisters feel the wave of love created in this momentum of energy in motion. On this pilgrimage towards the Sacred Womb, the nymph and the human are embracing their reunion in the river of time by their own devotion to the awakeness of humanity, their common motive.

End of the Chronicle III of the Pleiade's Daughters

Soon, the Chronicle IV... still in writing process.
Renatus, your chronicler.